


Night Out

by Grimsy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 00:01:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimsy/pseuds/Grimsy
Summary: Crowbar takes Die out to dinner.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlassesBlu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassesBlu/gifts).



> Read the fic Pages first if you want context for one of the conversations that come up. Otherwise go hog fucking wild, kids.
> 
> Note: This was actually posted after Pages but AO3, right?

**_‘STOP THE GODDAMN CAR!’_ **

 

Much to Crowbar’s surprise, the vehicle finally gave into his demands. It halted, rather abruptly. Crowbar was definitely sceptical when considering the idea that more yelling would be of any use. Yet there they were. Stationary at last.

The shock of the car stopping had taken priority and the next feeling to follow was the pressure on his chest; a reminder of how blessed seatbelts were. He turned his head towards his companion sitting next to him in the back seats. He disregarded the new sound of the car horns outside.

Contrary to how he felt, his voice softened when he addressed the man, ‘You alright?’

Die was pressed back into his seat, one hand on the door handle and the other gripping the edge of his seat. His eyes were alert but it wasn’t an unusual look for Die.

‘... Am I?’

Crowbar gave his partner a once-over and then a nod. Next, he turned his attention to the driver.

‘And you…’

He leaned forward in his seat, only going so far because he wouldn’t _dare_ remove the seatbelt just yet.

Itchy had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. The classic hold any idiot would have when they’ve nearly thrown you into several accidents. All because “going too fast for the other cars to hit” is apparently a sensible course of action.

Itchy turned his head and sheepishly grinned at Crowbar.

‘So, uh, do ya want me to park?’ 

He had some select words for Itchy, and plenty of severe words to accompany those. However, at the risk of ruining the evening, he channelled them into a well-practiced glare instead. 

‘We will be talking about this later…’ 

Itchy rolled his eyes and Crowbar watched him turn off the engine. Like hell was he going to settle for any less reassurance of his safety.

Crowbar sat back in his seat and looked out the window. It was terribly crowded outside, on and off the road. He had been hoping that the rain from earlier would have at least cleared the streets a bit. It would have certainly helped Die. Getting him out of the manor was a bigger task than Crowbar could have ever anticipated. If the next few steps could just go slightly more smoothly than the last seventeen had, that would be splendid. 

He heard a soft click next to him and saw Die had removed his seatbelt. 

‘Not to interrupt... But…’

Crowbar nodded, ‘Mull in my head somewhere safer?’ 

‘Yes, it would be preferable.’ Die admitted. 

Crowbar knew Die wasn’t too keen to leave the car, but neither did he want to take the trip back to the manor with Itchy. 

They both climbed out of the car, moving with more haste than necessary, but still a reasonable amount considering circumstances. 

The blaring horns of the aggrieved drivers behind Itchy were much louder outside. He gave the nearest a polite wave as he walked behind their car, over towards Die. A gesture was returned but far from the one Crowbar had offered. He let it slide. It was Itchy, after all. 

Die stood on the other side next to the car, arms crossed and watching the street with an aloof gaze. It only made Crowbar more determined to make this the best night out possible. 

‘Shall we?’ Crowbar offered his arm for Die to take. Public displays of affection were usually counterproductive to everything Crowbar held dear. However, tonight he had told himself to “loosen up”, or rather Stitch had told him to. Hypocritical advice from his recluse tailor. 

Die regarded the arm for a moment before speaking, but kept most of his attention on their surroundings. 

‘Sure...’   

Missing the cue, he took Crowbar’s hand into his instead. There were no complaints on Crowbar’s part. 

They left the road and stepped onto the pavement together, immediately faced with a crowd of people pushing past one another; to whatever destinations they had in mind. Perhaps a Friday evening wasn’t the best time for plans. 

Itchy, acting as quickly as always, rolled down his window and called after them. 

‘That’s all? No _thanks?!’_  

Crowbar mimicked the gesture he had received a few moments ago. 

‘No need to be like that, boss,’ Itchy huffed. ‘And hey! At least you’re not late!’ 

Leaving Itchy to whoever was climbing out of the car behind him, likely with a few severe words of their own, Crowbar lead a reluctant Die through the crowd and into the building on the other side.


	2. Part 2

‘See? It’s not so bad.’ Crowbar stood with Die at an empty reception, taking the opportunity before staff arrived to speak freely.

Die frowned at him. His hand had released from Crowbar’s so he could cross his arms again.

‘Are you going to pretend we nearly didn’t die on our way here?’

‘Yes. And I am already working on suppressing that memory.’ Crowbar sighed. The less they discussed their means of transport, the better. His partner, however, didn’t seem entirely satisfied by this take.

‘Why don’t we just eat at the manor? We wouldn’t have almost died at the manor...’

Crowbar threw his hands up in the air. ‘Look, I’ll stop pretending we didn’t nearly die in the car, if you stop acting like there’s no chance we’d die at home.’

Die shrugged then pretended to ignore Crowbar, like a petulant child. An abnormally tall, petulant child. Well, petulant or not, they were here now and Crowbar had a plan to deal with that frown. He had found the place in some newspaper’s “top five romantic dining spots” article. It was described as the “most peaceful” out of the five, so he thought why not. And then failed to think further about getting Die on board with it.

‘I know it’s not your kind of gig, Die. But all I ask is you give it a chance, it’s nice to dine out.’ Crowbar insisted. He knew Die would warm up to it eventually, he just happened to be instinctively stubborn towards new situations.

‘Every second I stand here is a chance coming and going.’ Die said, demonstrating the sheer accuracy of Crowbar’s point.

 

A Dersite began to walk towards the reception desk. He was wearing the typical waiter get-up, so Crowbar greeted him.

The waiter had been looking down at a notepad, so when he finally looked up from it, his prepared, customer-ready smile swiftly evaporated.

Before any attempt at reassurance could leave Crowbar’s mouth, the waiter spun on his heels and bolted in the direction he came.

‘Ah… Well...’ Crowbar’s shoulders slumped. ‘Maybe he’s getting someone who _can_ do their job.’

Die pursed his lips. ‘Well, that chance stayed at least five seconds longer than any of the others have.’

‘Zip it.’

A Prospitian appeared from the room the waiter had fled to, even faster in greeting than Crowbar was.

‘Welcome to Caro’s, Mister Seven, Mister Six.’

The woman smiling before them was young, definitely no older than 200, give or take. First impressions aside, while neither Crowbar nor Die had ever been to this restaurant, their recognition was the hallmark of a smart business; or at the very least, smart staff.

‘Good evening.’ He greeted her in return with a nod and a touch to the brim of his hat.

He presumed that it was the maître d' addressing them. Her red blouse and black skirt were too styled, certainly compared to the white and black uniform he had seen on the Dersite.

This presumption was promptly confirmed by the woman as she introduced herself, adding as well that her name was Genial. Crowbar wondered if a name like that came with the job. Carapacians were an odd bunch.

She offered some idle conversation about the dreary weather while she guided them through the restaurant. Crowbar made the effort to appear affable and indulge her. Of course, Die remained silent. He was either taking in the lavish details of the rooms or finding something on himself to fidget with. Crowbar hoped it was the former. If Die was impressed by the dining location, he couldn’t tell. Not while he was walking ahead of his partner, anyway. God, he hoped he was impressed.

They reached a door that Genial seemed to take a breath before opening. Crowbar didn’t think much of the behaviour; probably some personal ritual. After she did, she immediately ushered them inside.

The room was large but sparsely filled. Perhaps this area was reserved for a specific kind of patron, one more aligned with their own brand of business. There was an urge to check faces but Crowbar had to remind himself he was off duty. The walls were a deep red, which was only enriched by the dim lighting. Crowbar immediately regarded it as the magnificent colour it was. In the corners, pillars wore gold leaf that climbed up in painted vines, joining and swirling on the ceiling. The space was furnished like a parlour, elegant and formal. Tables, draped in white, reasonably spaced apart from one another. Hushed conversations, no children in sight. It was perfect. Die just had to be impressed, he just had to be.

Crowbar allowed himself a quick glance over to the man, just to be sure.

Die was picking lint off his lapel, looking up on occasion to avoid bumping into anything. He caught Crowbar’s eye for a moment, then returned to his activity.

_Unbelievable..._

‘Here we are.’ Genial stood by the table for two, still wearing the same smile she had welcomed them with. It seemed solitary, mostly surrounded by the other empty tables. Even the closest diner had their head down, seemingly occupied.

Crowbar thanked her and so did Die, although more quietly.

‘Would you like me to take your coats, sirs?’

‘Oh, please.’ Crowbar quickly began to shed his and handed it over. He looked to Die who instead of doing the same, gripped his coat lapels tightly.

‘No, please...’ It came out as a mumble but fortunately, the woman seemed to catch it.

‘And your hats?’

Crowbar quickly raised a hand defensively, ‘No, thank you. We’ll hang onto those.’

She seemed quite used to the response and continued to hold her charming demeanour. With Crowbar’s coat slung over her arm, she reached into her pocket and brought out two gold coins. She took them into each hand, then flipped them into the air.

Genial deftly caught the menus as they fell, placing them on the table once Crowbar and Die were seated.

‘Would you gentlemen like to order your drinks now, or would you like some time to look at our menu?’

Crowbar looked at Die, unresponsive as expected and already flipping through the menu unenthusiastically.

‘A minute or two to look would be grand.’ He requested.

‘Of course, I’ll be back with you in a moment.’

Crowbar watched Genial walk away and hand his coat to a waiter, who left through the door they had entered. Genial followed and closed the door behind her. Good to keep a note of these things. That was one of Crowbar’s favourite coats, after all.

He looked at Die from across the table, ‘So, what do you think so far?’

Die’s eyes lingered on the menu and he hummed.

‘Good?’

Die hummed again, longer than before.

‘I’m going to take that as good. What do you want to drink?’

His partner looked away from his menu, and finally, at him, ‘What are you going to have?’

‘Well, I’ll probably just have some red—’

‘I’ll have that too…’ Die’s eyes left Crowbar again.

Too early in the night to be defeated, Crowbar resisted another sigh.

Now seated, he gave the room a second look. It was still just as impressive as when he had entered. It even seemed to have its own door to the kitchen.

‘The room’s not too shabby, don’t you think?’

He waited to see if Die would take the conversational bait, but he remained silent.

‘It’s got nice, uh,’ Crowbar quickly scanned for a detail that might appeal to Die. Failing that, he went with what he liked. ‘Nice wallpaper.’

‘Too red.’

Crowbar stopped himself from spluttering and Die glanced up to flash Crowbar a smirk.

‘Oh, I see how it is.’  He lowered his voice to a hushed tone. ‘I love you but you’re a real piece of work, Die—Die?’

At some point, the smirk had slowly turned flat. Die’s face looked like he was back in the car with Itchy at the wheel again.

Crowbar cocked his head, ‘What’s that look for?’

Die looked at Crowbar, then away, then back at him, and away again; specifically to something behind him. Without moving, Crowbar subtly pointed a finger, gesturing in the direction of Die’s stare.

‘What? Is the waiter from earlier back? Or has the driver behind us come to finish the job.’ He chuckled at his own joke. Die did not.

Then he heard a commotion, a commotion that should not occur in any restaurant described as “peaceful” in printed paper.

There was a man shouting and while that wouldn’t usually unnerve Crowbar, it was the subject of the shouting that largely concerned him.

 **‘And whose** **_nasty ass_ ** **green coat is that?!’**

Crowbar turned to watch the door his coat had left through. That cannot be good at all…

Something touched his arm and he turned back to see Die.

‘I know… Listen, we’re not going anywhere. If anyone has a problem with us, they can shove a—’

Die hissed something at him and his eyes looked between Crowbar and somewhere behind him again.

‘Yes, I can hear it’s coming from the door.’

Die shook his head, unusually and yet characteristically frantic.

Dropping any attempt at subtlety, Die stretched his arm out and pointed behind Crowbar, but not towards the door.

Crowbar began to feel anxious. As he turned in his seat to face whatever was behind him, the door burst open.

 

Spades Slick walked inside and immediately spotted Crowbar and Die. Perhaps it wasn’t the time to be thinking about the safety of his coat, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

Crowbar could see Slick grumble something while staring directly at him. Whatever it was, it was spoken nowhere near as loud as before; and Crowbar was no lip reader. He began walking over.

‘You’ve gotta be kidding me...’ Crowbar groaned.

_‘Crowbar!’_

Confused by the outburst from his partner, he turned back again.

Die was still pointing and this time Crowbar actually paid attention to what, or rather _who,_ he was pointing to.

The person sitting nearest? What about them… Oh, _him._

Of course, there was no way he would have recognised him from the half a second of attention he gave the man sitting nearby. He had a newspaper out, very immersed in whatever he was reading. Crowbar did not have to guess the name of the paper, however.

Diamonds Droog had a strong preference for The Gazette. It would go without saying that his hat was currently underneath the issue he held over the table.

Crowbar resisted the urge to slam his head down on his own table.

  
Someone entered the room after Slick, softly closing the door behind them. Genial walked past Slick, over towards Crowbar and Die, completely unperturbed.

Crowbar didn’t take his eyes off Slick and neither did the other man. The rival boss bared his teeth and followed Genial until he reached his own table, sitting down across from Droog. He made sure to twist around in his seat so he could continue his snarling at Crowbar. Droog watched him as well, equally disconcerting.

He was so focused, he didn’t realise Genial had started speaking.

‘Are you enjoying your evening?’

‘We are.’ Die was the one to answer this time, surprising the hostess. Crowbar was far too occupied in his stare down with Slick, so it was that or silence.

‘I’m glad. So, any decisions on your drinks tonight?’

Die held up two fingers, ‘Reds, please.’

‘Um, red whats?’ Genial asked.

Die gestured for Crowbar’s assistance and after a few seconds, the conversation fully processed.

‘Wine. Red wine. Two.’

‘Please.’ Die nodded.

Genial started to write down their order, then paused.

‘Oh, and I must apologise for my colleague’s earlier behaviour, he’s new and gets quite nervous around professionals. I hope you understand.’

‘And you’ve had a lot of those today...’ Crowbar spoke slowly, his focus finding its way back to the enemy table.

‘Yes, we have, sir. We’re proud to be on The Gazette’s top five.’

The Gazette. Oh, God. _That_ was the paper he read it in? Crowbar was watching their night suddenly plummet into the abyss. He had no idea how long it would take until they crashed at the bottom.

‘That’s… That’s wonderful…’

She beamed at Crowbar, ‘I’ll bring you both those glasses, then we can talk about dinner.’

‘Actually, a bottle would be appropriate.’

Genial nodded and began to walk away, not before being hailed by Slick. Suddenly her smile seemed especially forced.

Crowbar watched her stand a foot away from the table as she spoke to the two men. Slick kept pointing at Crowbar and Genial answered whatever question he threw at her; never breaking from her cheerful character.

‘You know...’ Die whispered. ‘I just remembered, I don’t think I like red wine.’

They had been there for ten minutes. That was all it took, 10 minutes to defeat Crowbar and their evening.


	3. Part 3

Aside from the occasional glance behind Crowbar, Die was well composed. Crowbar watched his partner through his fingers... While he held his head in his hands.

It had been around twenty minutes now, mostly passed in silence, with the exception of the occasional comment from Die. Slick’s rageful stare had lingered, he seemed angrier than usual, entirely resentful of Crowbar and Die’s presence. He hoped that Slick knew the feeling was mutual. With some prompting from Droog, the mob boss eventually turned back to focus on his own table. 

If only having their backs to each other provided Crowbar with enough comfort to return to normal.

‘You know, I think the gold on the ceiling’s an okay touch.’

Crowbar mumbled in agreement.

‘Think Scratch would let us have it in the manor?’

Crowbar mumbled in disagreement.

‘Hey.’ Die patted the table, trying to get his attention.

Crowbar sighed and let his hands fall from his face. He knew it was pointless now and Die probably felt that way too. No doubt he was going to ask if they could just wrap it up and leave. They’d ordered their food, or rather Die had ordered their food, so god only knew what they would be ending up with. Maybe bailing now would be for the best.

‘Crowbar.’

‘... Yes?’

‘It’s nice.’

Crowbar tried not to roll his eyes. Was Die really trying to bait  _ him _ into conversation now? Well, fine. He’d bite.

‘What’s nice, Die?’ He asked.

‘The wallpaper.’

Crowbar did try, he really did try his best to let the failure of the night weigh down on his mood, but he smiled.

‘So…’ Crowbar tapped a finger against the table idly, hoping it would distract from his amusement. ‘Not too red anymore?’

‘Well, it’s a bit too dark.’

‘Probably just the lighting.’

‘Nah,’ Die clicked his tongue. ‘It’s too dark.’

‘And what particular shade of red do you prefer?’

Die paused, as if his answer was meant to be obvious. When it appeared to be far from obvious to Crowbar, Die stared just above his partner’s head.

‘Jeez, Die.’ Crowbar leaned back in his chair and grinned. ‘You’re a real goofball.’

‘Thought I was a real piece of work.’ Die smiled.

‘Yeah, well… You’re a real lot of things.’

 

‘Hey!’

It had been such a nice moment that Crowbar had forgotten about the situation behind them. It had done something to Crowbar’s mood though. Given him some hope that this night didn’t have to be a disaster. What was he about to say earlier? That if anyone had a problem with them, they could shove a—

**_‘Hey!’_ **

Crowbar turned around in his seat and frowned, ‘Hey yourself.’

‘Fuck are you two yapping about over there, huh?’ Slick growled.

Die chimed in, ‘Wallpaper.’

‘Yeah, _ ‘course _ you are.’ He shook his head. ‘Think I’m stupid, do you?’

Crowbar and Die exchanged a look that seemed to rile up Slick further.

‘Fuckin’ wise guys, huh?’

‘At least neither of us are poor enough company that our companion’s got the paper out.’

Crowbar watched Droog’s shoulders rise and fall, as though he’d taken a long, deep breath. The man swiftly folded up his paper and placed it on his lap.

Slick nodded, ‘Any more smartass comments?’

‘No, none actually. Thanks for the chat, it was terrible seeing you.’ Crowbar turned his back on Slick and Droog, winking at Die.

Waiting until after Slick had returned to ignoring them, Die raised his brow at Crowbar and spoke quietly again, ‘Did my comment on the colour of the hat really give you that boost?’

‘Maybe it did and you will never tell a soul.’

‘And who’s the goofball now?’

‘Again, zip it.’


	4. Part 4

More time passed and Crowbar, by whatever miracle made possible, found himself having a good time. And he was convinced that Die was as well. They kept quiet, for the sake of their privacy. Crowbar and Die talked,  _ laughed, _ exchanged some more personal words in long whispers. It was going fine, it was going great. Whatever had forced Die out of his shell had probably saved the night, and there was a suspicion that he owed that result to the men behind him.

‘You were just crouched outside my door at Hell o’clock in the morning, Die. How did you think I’d feel?’ Crowbar grinned and swirled the second glass of red wine in his hand.

‘Honoured that I’d hand deliver my gifts in person, obviously.’ Die peered into his own, first glass, which he’d taken exactly three sips and two “tongue dips” of. None had been successful, but upon Crowbar’s insistence that it was an acquired taste, Die seemed to keep giving it a chance. As for the food, Crowbar had no idea what Die had ordered for their starters, but he’d be lying if he said the random selection didn’t pair nicely with the wine. It was something for him to give a chance as well.

 

During the evening, Die still seemed to keep a watch on their unexpected company. Most of the time it was just a quick glance, but Crowbar had to admit, there were moments when Die’s face changed just slightly. It was nearly enough to tempt him to find out what was happening behind them. The only thing that kept him from that, was the knowledge that he’d only likely find Droog’s cold stare. Then that would lead to Slick yelling at them again. Sometimes wine gave Crowbar a headache and he didn’t need Slick’s barking cementing that outcome.

Die’s eyes went up over Crowbar’s shoulder again, it was routine now so Crowbar just continued the conversation as per normal. He noticed Die staying focused a little longer than before again and nearly frowning.

Crowbar considered just asking outright then and there what all the fuss was about, but Die’s eyes suddenly snapped back to Crowbar.

‘Is everything alright?’ He set his glass down and let his hand rest on the table.

Die shrugged, ‘Sure.’

‘Okay then…’ Crowbar didn’t feel threatened by the presence of Droog and Slick, but he had a feeling he was missing something going on over there. Something that was truly captivating Die.

‘Right, well, I wasn’t going to say this. And I didn’t say it then, but Die, the drawings of Itchy were…’

Crowbar’s words stopped and he blinked.

‘Uh.’

He watched Die’s hand start to move, fingers slowly walking it across the table. It made its way over to rest on Crowbar’s own. The action made Crowbar check his peripheral vision for any unwanted onlookers. He wasn’t sure about this.

‘Die…?’

His partner’s hand changed its position to hold Crowbar’s.

‘I’m not sure this is the best idea.’ Crowbar hesitated. He trusted Die to never do anything revealing in front of their enemies, and yet... Perhaps he was watching the other table to ensure their own privacy.

He was shushed and Die gave his hand a squeeze. Crowbar’s thoughts were stunted. Where the hell was this coming from?

Die’s eyes continued to flicker between both tables, but regardless of where his eyes were, his hand busied itself with Crowbar’s. His thumb smoothed over Crowbar’s hand. It was pleasant, calming, and very confusing. Die brushed his knuckles, one by one. There seemed to be a method or rhythm to his actions. Crowbar was puzzled, it wasn’t like Die at all. 

He watched their joined hands. Crowbar wanted to enjoy it, and to a degree he was, but it was unusual. Die was indeed affectionate, but Crowbar couldn’t remember a time when his partner was ever this, well, careful.

‘Okay.’ Crowbar murmured, ‘Who are you and what have you done with Mister Six?’


	5. Part 5

Their main course left the kitchen sooner than anticipated. With great reluctance, Crowbar pulled his hand back from Die when he heard the doors opening again. It was delivered to their table and Die immediately started eating. His partner’s quick change added another layer of mystery to the evening, but Crowbar tried not to overthink it. There would be time to overthink it when they were back at the manor.

He looked down at his plate and decided to focus on that instead, though he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. He had missed the order Die gave entirely. Crowbar offered a few guesses as to what the meal was before he started eating.

‘No, no.’ Crowbar waved his hands, ‘You said it  _ wasn’t _ vegetarian. How can this not be meat?’

‘I didn’t say it wasn’t meat.’ His partner paused before taking another mouthful of… Well, whatever it was.

‘Die, I’ve sat here and guessed every animal under the sun.’

‘See this, Crowbar?’ Die gestured towards Crowbar’s plate with his knife. ‘This is what you get when you’re too busy sulking to order off the menu yourself.’

‘Alright… And I wasn’t  _ sulking.’ _ He prodded the food with his fork. At least he could be sure it wouldn’t kill him—sure enough for this evening to allow, anyway.

Crowbar took a bite, it was fine, whatever it was. Tasty.

They ate for a while in silence, even the other diners were quiet. Even Slick and Droog were quiet, their meal had likely already arrived. 

Crowbar was still curious. Die’s attention was now solely on his food, but he couldn’t help but think back to Die’s earlier fixation. Against his better judgement, he quickly looked back at them.

He had presumed that Droog must have unfolded his newspaper and gone back to reading, but it was still on his lap. As Crowbar guessed, they had their food out in front of them, but they weren’t eating. They were talking and there was something unusually calm about Droog’s expression. He would never have thought it possible, or at least he would never have expected to see it, but the man’s gaze looked… Soft?

Crowbar looked at Die, ‘Are you seeing this?’

Die gave another of his signature shrugs, yet offered little in the way of a response. He seemed uncomfortable that Crowbar had joined in with his observations of the duo. Crowbar wanted to return to the bizarre sight, but Die’s cough upon his attempt to do so alerted him that now was not the best time.

Crowbar wasn’t much of a gossip, in fact, he actively went out of his way to avoid the personal details of others. Yet here he was, presented with the private engagements of his enemies, just a few feet away... Probably shouldn’t pass it up.

He leaned in towards the table, concerned about his next line of questioning being heard.

‘What do you think they’re talking about? Are they still talking?’

For the first time that evening since they had sat down, Die’s eyes were staying on Crowbar, ‘I don’t know.’

‘Why do you suppose they came to a place like this? Little fanciful for their tastes, isn’t it?’

His partner seemed hesitant to follow Crowbar down the particular rabbit hole he was proposing, but leaned into the table as well.

‘Droog is the one who reads The Gazette.’

Crowbar nodded, ‘Could be his tastes.’

‘Do you want to ask him if he likes the wallpaper too?’

‘Die,’ Crowbar scoffed. ‘Who gives a fuck what Diamonds Droog thinks.’

His partner hummed, then seemed to take the risk and look again.

‘Spades Slick, it would seem... He’s silent.’

‘I don’t believe that.’

‘It’s true, he’s just watching Droog speak, and Droog hasn’t stopped speaking.’ Die insisted.

‘Are you sure it’s even possible for Slick to  _ listen _ for that long?’

‘I assume so, otherwise, he’s just admiring the view.’

Crowbar paused to give Die a long, incredulous look.

‘Now that I really don’t believe...’ He shook his head. If that’s where Die’s imagination wants to go, he’ll be going there alone.

Die smiled, ‘You want to know what’s really unbelievable?’

‘What?’

‘This beef.’

‘I guessed beef!’ Crowbar was startled by his own exclamation and quickly quieted himself. ‘I guessed beef  _ twice, _ Die. _ ’ _

‘No, you didn’t.’

‘I did.’

‘... He did.’

 

This time, Crowbar was reluctant to turn around. The man who had been the subject of their curiosity spoke. Diamonds Droog’s voice didn’t rattle Crowbar like it did to most. It damn well put him on edge though.

He decided that he wasn’t giving the enemy crew anymore of his time. Without turning around, he responded, ‘Oh, were we too loud?’

Crowbar recognised the pause for dramatic effect that Droog let linger, it seemed the entire room fell into it as well. Cliché bastard.

‘You were.’ Droog cautioned.

‘Well, if you wanted to eat at a library, you’re four blocks away. Help yourself.’

As Crowbar returned to his meal, he heard movement from Slick’s chair. He froze, his grip on the knife and fork in his hands tightened; mostly on the knife.

Droog’s words were clearer, but his voice was lower than before, ‘Stick to speculating on your meals, gentlemen.’

Crowbar didn’t loosen his hold on the cutlery immediately, but began to at the uncanny voice of Spades Slick asking “what the hell” that was about; no doubt reclaiming Droog’s attention.

Crowbar stared at Die, who looked back at him with his mouth slightly agape.

‘... Do you,’ Die whispered, ‘ Do you think he has super hearing?’

He considered it.

‘... Let’s not try to find out.’


	6. Part 6

Crowbar tried to let the evening pass in peace, but the troubling thought of Diamonds Droog having been privy to their conversations was another dent in their night. Was he relaying everything back to Slick? Crowbar tried to replay their conversations through his head, word for word, searching for anything that might have been confidential.

Die seemed to allow Crowbar time to stew in his thoughts. He was, as expected, back to his spying. Maybe this time he was looking out for signs that Droog was trying to listen in on them. However, Crowbar wasn’t convinced. Though Die’s face was certainly  _ scrutinising  _ whatever he was looking at, Crowbar doubted it was for the reasons he would hope.

Die was as much a man of privacy as Crowbar, yet he often failed to secure that privacy with the same success Crowbar had. This was mostly due to his ability to overestimate opportunities for it. Though he doubted there was much privacy left to protect here.

No more talking—well, no specific conversations that would reveal the  raison d'être of their evening. Conversations that were entirely the  _ point _ of their evening.

Crowbar would curse himself for having his heart shoot itself in the foot like it did, leaving him to fall for his co-worker. However, he had spent long enough doing that. He just wanted to be with Die. Of course, only alone or in rooms of strangers he would never interact with. If that ever changed, well, Crowbar couldn’t imagine what kind of life that would look like. He wasn’t asking for that though. He just wanted to do something special now and then. Was one evening out just too much to ask?

Crowbar rubbed his forehead. He knew the night wouldn’t be without its bumps here and there. He needed to get his grip on the situation—

Something underneath the table started rubbing against his leg.

Crowbar looked at Die, assuming he would look just as puzzled as he was. Surely he would have felt that as well. It was a small table, tables for two were just like that. 

Die looked back at him, his face was practically a blank slate. His hands were clasped, resting on the table. Die shifted slightly, and Crowbar felt it again.

It shouldn’t really have been a surprise that it was Die against his leg, because what else was there? But it was a surprise.

It truly was.

He knew the tablecloth was there, but surely  _ anyone _ paying enough attention would see Die’s foot disturbing the cloth around Crowbar’s legs. Or even the cloth on Die’s side as he moved. He couldn’t see a damn thing himself so how could he possibly know? Acting on his paranoia, he started to turn his head, desperate to know if this interaction was really as secret as Die had decided it was. He felt his heart drum in his chest.

As his head began to move, Die began to shake his own, prompting Crowbar to stop.

Die’s foot suddenly slid up far too high and Crowbar released the breath he’d been holding. He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them again, Die was smiling. Crowbar wasn’t sure what had gotten into the man, asides from wine. However, he doubted that this behaviour could possibly stem from too many tongue dips of  _ anything. _

Crowbar mouthed his thoughts to Die.

_ What are you doing? _

Die tilted his head and let his foot slowly sink down against his partner’s leg.

Crowbar mouthed the words again but Die just shrugged. He was really getting tired of those shrugs.

‘I don’t know about you, Crowbar... But I’m no lip reader.’

The foot moved back up again, higher than before, and Die found immense joy from Crowbar’s flustered glare.

_ We are in public! _

In response to that, Die mouthed back some words of his own, all of which were obviously lost on Crowbar.

Crowbar grit his teeth. There was a time and a place for frisky behaviour. Before he was able to share this knowledge, Genial returned. Crowbar was so taken by surprise, that he barely registered his muscles contracting to slam his knees close on Die’s foot.

He doubted it hurt because if it did, Die wouldn’t still be smiling. Especially when that smile was twisting and straining itself to avoid spreading into laughter. It was a rather disturbing sight. It seemed Genial concurred.

‘... Is everything alright?’

‘Oh, it’s fine. This is definitely the scene of fine.’

Genial seemed relieved by this, ‘Fantastic!’ 

She turned to snap her fingers at someone and a waitress strolled over. As the waitress began collecting their plates, Genial displayed her smile again.

‘Has your evening been to your liking so far, sirs?’

More idle chatter. Crowbar looked at Die who was barely recovering and still wearing that god awful expression. He decided it was his turn to do the talking.

‘We’re doing very well,  **thank** — _ thank you.’ _

Crowbar’s body stiffened. An attempt from Die to wiggle his foot out from his legs had completely thrown him. Feeling like a fool for not doing it sooner, he let go of Die and quickly crossed his legs.

Genial was polite, or very professional because Crowbar heard not a single peep out of her concerning his erratic behaviour.

‘Wonderful.’

As before, she brought out her coins and left them with two menus, this time they listed the restaurant’s desserts.

Crowbar waited until the maître d' was out of earshot to speak again.

‘That? That just now?’ Crowbar hissed. ‘Later, or anywhere else but here,  _ please.’ _

Die looked startled, ‘You don’t like it?’

‘I… I do, I just...’ 

Crowbar stopped speaking to frown when his stuttering brought a change in Die’s mood. He wondered if Die took inspiration from Genial’s own superficial smile. The look of mock innocence suited him far too well.


	7. Part 7

‘What has gotten into you tonight?’ Crowbar uttered, glancing through the new menu. There wasn’t much in it that stood out for him, and he could hardly concentrate on it after all  _ that. _

He peered up at Die, who was looking exactly where Crowbar expected.

‘... Still watching, are we?’

Die froze and his eyes switched to Crowbar, ‘Huh?’

‘Listen, Die. Don’t think I’m not aware that you’ve been watching them the entire evening.’

Die raised his shoulders to shrug, but let them fall when Crowbar’s stare turned stern. His partner then opened up his menu and tried his best to look occupied.

‘This stuff looks good…’ Die wondered aloud.

Crowbar huffed, ‘You aren’t going to find any success in changing the topic.’

‘Well…’ Die bit his lip and closed the menu, it took a moment for him to speak again. Crowbar knew precisely what Die looked like when he was considering his options, or excuses.

‘Surely someone needs to keep an eye out?’

‘No—well, yes.’ Crowbar grumbled, ‘But that’s not the point.’

‘Do you feel I haven’t paid enough attention to you?’

‘Oh, no.’ Crowbar squinted at him. ‘You have paid  _ plenty _ enough…’

Die smiled, ‘Good.’

‘How is it  _ good? _ You’ve only nearly outed our…’ Crowbar caught himself before he said the word. ‘Our  _ thing _ to this entire room.’

‘Didn’t Stitch tell you to loosen up?’

‘Yes, he did—how did you know that?’ Crowbar frowned.

Die’s teeth found his lip again for a moment, ‘I was there with you.’

‘Were you now?’ Crowbar put a hand under his chin. ‘Funny, how I didn’t see you.’ 

‘Oh, you know, I was just… Round the corner.’ Die gingerly twirled a finger in the air.

Crowbar’s hand slid up to cover his eyes, ‘Of course you were… I thought we had discussed announcing our presence.’

Die’s fingers started to fiddle with the sides of the menu. Crowbar didn’t want to put Die on the spot on their night out, so he waved a hand, dismissing the topic.

Until he paused his gesture halfway through it.

‘Wait. No.’

‘No...?’ 

Crowbar jabbed his thumb into his chest, ‘You’re just changing the topic to distract me, aren’t you?

‘You said I wouldn’t get away with that, so you must have wanted to talk about all that.’ Die’s shoulder’s flinched.

‘Die, you know that I know—’

His partner perked up in his seat, ‘Genial’s coming back.’

‘For god sake… Does she  _ pick  _ her timings?’ Crowbar groaned, throwing his head back.

 

Crowbar shook his head when Genial inquired about dessert choices; he wasn’t excited by anything in the menu. He just wanted to know what was going through Die’s head, he  _ needed _ to know. And regardless of how closely he inspected his partner, his goal was only further complicated by the order Die gave.

‘I need a thing.’ Die nodded.

‘Is it an item in our menu, sir?’ 

‘Yes.’

Genial looked at Die’s menu expectantly, then stopped when she realised Die was not going to open it.

He moved his hands, shaping a sphere in the air, ‘It’s in a bowl… With a stand…’ One hand pinched beneath his imaginary object, drawing down towards the table.

Genial clearly had no idea what Die was talking about. Crowbar had known Die his whole life and he had no idea what Die was talking about.

It was the first time during the evening that Crowbar saw Genial frown; too perplexed to understand, too polite to press for more information.

Die looked to Crowbar again for assistance, and Crowbar rolled his wrist, hoping Die would offer more details.

‘The bowl is white.’

‘Yes, sir. We do have white bowls...’ She hesitated.

‘It has cherries on top.’

_ Cherries...? _

Crowbar snapped his fingers at his realisation, ‘Oh, _ice cream._ You mean ice cream, don’t you? _’_

‘Oh, well, yes. Obviously.’

Crowbar shared a moment of relief from exasperation with Genial. Though his was an external one, Genial’s was undoubtedly internal.

Her smile quickly returned, ‘Oh! Do you mean the dish that the two gentlemen across—’

_ ‘No.’  _

It’s not often that Die sounds threatening, looks threatening,  _ is  _ threatening. Crowbar could not deny though that the man could pull off the act well. Crowbar was just as surprised as Genial was.

‘No…?’

‘White bowl, ice cream, cherries.’

‘But that’s exactly what…’ Genial took a breath to stop herself, then simply nodded once. ‘Of course, sir.’

After some negotiation on what flavours were available and what flavours currently existed, Genial speedily left their table with Die’s order. Crowbar made a mental note to tip generously.

‘Well, glad that’s taken care of. God forbid she forgets and only brings one out of the three cherries of your demand.’ He teased.

‘I was very clear, so we should be expecting exactly that.’

‘We?’

 

The bowl arrived; three flavours, three cherries. Whether or not that was a conscious choice on Mister Six’s part, Crowbar was amused either way.

Die took his time examining it, spinning the bowl around to view it from all sides.

‘So…’ Crowbar began, ‘Does that meet your requirements then?’ 

‘It does, it does indeed.’

A beat passed and instead of taking the spoon, Die lifted his hand up towards the ice cream. His fingers closed on the stem of one of the cherries, lifting it from a scoop of vanilla.

Die held it in the air, observing silently.

‘... Aren’t you going to eat it?’ Crowbar asked.

‘No.’ His partner’s attention left the cherry. ‘You are.’

Die stretched his arm over the table towards Crowbar’s face. ‘Open.’

Crowbar grimaced and recoiled. He had nothing against fruit, nothing against cherries—well,  _ regular _ cherries.

‘Die, I’m not eating that.’ He protested, mostly directed at the bright red object being forced towards him.

‘Why not?’

‘Those things taste horrible. They’re too sweet.’

It was a  maraschino cherry. Crowbar didn’t know what or who was responsible for the  _ ruined _ fruit, but the sickly, sweet syrup taste was detestable.

His partner withdrew his hand for a second, but then insistently held it out towards Crowbar again. ‘But it’s red.’

‘Die, if all it took was red to get me to eat something, the Midnight Crew would be painting their bullets.’

Disregarding Crowbar’s sass, Die opened his mouth. ‘Ah.’

‘No, no  _ ah.’  _ Crowbar declared, mimicking Die. ‘We’re not doing this because they’re gross.’

‘It’ll be cute.’

_ Cute? _

Was that was this was all about? The hand holding, the leg rubbing… Had this night found some untapped _ romance _ within Die? 

He tried to think about it, imagine it, though he didn’t need to. It was happening right in front of him. Drowning in disbelief, Crowbar made himself shake his head.

‘That’s another thing we’re not going for, not when we’re in a room full of people with our enemies behind us.’

Crowbar stopped. He suddenly felt cold.

‘Die… Put the cherry down…’

Die did not put them cherry down.

‘Please, Die.’

_ ‘Ah.’ _

Crowbar made sure he was sitting up as high as he could, hoping it was enough to obscure the scene from prying eyes. Specifically those of Droog and Slick.

He wanted to look again, see if they had noticed. Any attempt to peek would likely attract Droog’s attention though, especially now that he was onto them.

‘Put. It. Down.’ He stressed,  _ pleaded _ .

Die did not move nor show any sign that would suggest he was about to. His partner wasn’t looking behind him anymore, now neither couldn’t be sure their enemies weren’t already aware of what was happening.

Crowbar eyed the cherry with complete hostility. Had this action taken place a few months earlier, he would have had no hesitation in slapping the thing out of Die’s hand. However, for better or for worse, Crowbar was a patient person now. He was with Die, at least.

He frantically considered the dangled fruit, Die’s insistence, the threat behind them, and the entire venue.

Crowbar ate the stupid cherry.

‘Good!’ Die beamed at him, taking back the remaining stalk. He threw it over his shoulder, much to Crowbar’s own dismay. Dismay he would have expressed if he were not battling the foul taste in his mouth.

He swallowed reluctantly and grabbed his glass to wash away the taste. Crowbar did not want to think about who might have seen that. He had moved fast though, not quite Itchy-fast, but hopefully fast enough.

‘I’m very pleased, Crowbar.’ Die gushed, or was as close to gushing as Die could possibly get. ‘I was worried you were just going to grab it instead.’

Crowbar choked on his drink and cursed himself for limiting his options to some absurd fight or flight dilemma.

‘Now…’ Die’s hand picked out another cherry.

Crowbar gawked, ‘You’ve got to be joking.’

Once again, his partner moved the cherry towards him but this time Crowbar’s hand rose up to block its path.

‘Now just hold on a moment.’ Crowbar tried to stall. He needed to get Die to understand that this was not the place. He needed to appeal to whatever this new romantic appetite was.

He raised a finger. ‘One was a good time, good if we’re really lowering the bar here...’ Crowbar grumbled the last bit. ‘How about we leave it there?’

Die went blank and Crowbar felt a pang of guilt for taking away his partner’s absurd giddy mood.

‘How about… How about we do this at home instead, with something I like.’

Die scratched his chin, pondering the proposal, ‘With what?’

‘I’m sure we’ll find something.’

‘And you’ll like that?’

Crowbar nodded, ‘Yes. I will definitely like that.’

‘Okay then,’ Die relented. ‘I can do that.’

Another stroke of relief and Crowbar felt the ever-growing tension in his body leave. He was glad Die was feeling more flexible, at least after the first cherry.

‘Finish your ice cream then and we can go do that.’

‘Oh, I never wanted the ice cream.’ Die shoved the bowl to the center of the table.

Crowbar looked at the rejected bowl and the two remaining cherries, both slowly sliding down from the vanilla scoop onto the rum raisin. He smiled, an attempt to resist the numbness that was slowly replacing any feeling inside him. It was time to call it a night.


	8. Part 8

Crowbar attempted to wave down a waiter. There was only one who couldn’t pretend to not have seen the action. They nervously nodded, then immediately left the room.

He rolled his eyes, ‘I thought our maître d' said it was only the new guy that was spooked by, uh,  _ professionals.  _ Maybe that’s why we’ve been honoured enough to see the hostess so much tonight.’

‘I don’t think you’re spooky.’

‘Thanks, Die.’ 

Genial returned through the doors and began walking towards them.

‘Finally. How much do you suppose we should tip?’

‘What do you think is the amount she expects.’

Crowbar reflected on the events of the night.

‘A lot.’

 

Just as Genial was a few feet away, she veered towards the table behind them.

Crowbar groaned, ‘Oh...’

‘Well, they have been here longer.’ Die offered.

He decided he would view their departure. He saw the men stand up, Droog pushed his chair back in and Slick decided to walk away from it. In fact, he walked away entirely. Watching this as well, Droog glared at him.

‘What? This was all your idea in the first place.’ Slick sneered.

‘You’re right. I should have asked you to clarify if you were going to be a child about it beforehand.’

Slick stuck out his tongue mockingly and grinned.

‘At least you’ve clearly enjoyed yourself…’

‘Says who?’ Slick huffed defensively.

Droog ignored him and turned to address Genial, thanking her for the meal and placing some money in her hand. He paused briefly, then whispered something to her and added some more cash to that.

Crowbar found himself nodding in solidarity. He hadn’t heard the whisper, but he knew.

He thought that perhaps their evening had gone so swimmingly that they’d entirely forgotten about his or Die’s presence. And he believed that until Slick reached the door, spun around, and gave them what Crowbar had decided was the gesture of the night. He was more than happy to return it. 

‘So  _ glad _ they had fun too, certainly Droog’s wallet is as well.’ Crowbar smirked.

‘Yes, they did.’

There was something odd about the certainty Die spoke in, but he put it aside as he saw that at long last, Genial was coming towards them.

‘Good evening again, gentlemen. Can I be of service?’ Genial said.

‘I think we’ll be heading off now.’

‘Okay!’ 

She snapped at the nearest waiter again and pointed to their table. This seemed to demonstrate whatever message that was intended as the staff scurried off.

‘Did you enjoy dining with us tonight?’

Crowbar looked at Die and smiled, ‘Yes. I suppose we did.’

‘It was alright.’ His partner hummed in agreement.

‘I’m very happy to hear you’ve had a pleasant night with us.’ Genial bowed her head.

The waiter was fast and hurried over to Genial’s side, handing her a bill on a silver tray. She took it from his hand and placed it down on the table.

Crowbar looked at the total and then checked back at the individual prices. It was a large total but it all appeared to add up. 

He took out his wallet and started taking out notes, placing them on the tray.

‘Wait!’ Die piped up.

Crowbar paused and watched Die take out his own wallet. He was quite touched that Die wanted to help balance the cost, even though Crowbar had insisted earlier that he had it covered.

Die looked in the various pockets, then brought out the contents of his wallet and placed it all on the tray.

Three bronze coins and five silver ones.

‘Thanks again, Die…’

Crowbar offered the rest and then some as a tip. He was fairly confident that it was enough.

 

Genial walked them back towards reception. Crowbar’s coat was returned to him as they arrived. The amount of gratitude he felt towards whoever had managed to keep Spades Slick off it was immense.

Genial bid them farewell with sentiments that they would return, then they left Caro’s. 

As it was later in the evening, the streets had quieted down just a bit. It wasn’t too much of a struggle to find a place they could wait for Itchy to arrive.

They picked a spot under the light of a lamp post, where they might be easier to find.

‘Well, good?’

‘Good.’ Die agreed

Crowbar perked up, ‘Think you’ll give this dining out thing another spin sometime then?’

‘Maybe. I guess I was pretty impressed by it all.’  Die looked like he actually meant this and in turn, Crowbar tried to hide how ecstatic he was to hear that. 

It had worked. It had been a success. Die had enjoyed a night out with Crowbar. Crew be damned, Die and Crowbar would defy the odds every time. Even if he had to spend a portion of their time wrapped up in anxiety over being found out. He had Die with him, so he could survive anything.

Feeling upbeat, he took Die’s hand and squeezed it. 

His partner turned to him and smiled, ‘I had a good time tonight, Crowbar. Well, I always have a good time with you. This was a special good time though.’

If they had been anywhere else, Crowbar would have kissed him there. He could hold off though. However, the moment they were behind closed doors, there wasn’t going to be a single thing that could stand between him and Die.

‘You know…’ Crowbar purred, ‘Next time, we can find somewhere with private booths and maybe you can test out a little more of that new romantic self.’

‘Oh, thanks. I guess I can’t take all the credit though.’ Die shrugged. ‘I just did what Droog did.’

‘You…’ Crowbar froze. ‘You did what.’

 

The screeching of approaching tires couldn’t even take Crowbar’s thoughts away from what he had just heard. Neither could the cacophony of car horns and shouts.

‘Hey!’ Itchy called out to them. ‘Move your asses, would ya?’

Die began to walk towards the car but Crowbar held him by the sleeve.

Crowbar tried to find the right words or any words, but he just stood there, more confused than ever.

Without any verbal communication, Die knew. Instead of offering any further comment, he simply shrugged. To Crowbar, it was the most conflicting shrug of the entire night.

Crowbar allowed Die to lead him to the car. He got inside without complaint, closed the door, and put on his seatbelt. 

He looked outside.

‘Shit, starting to rain again.’ Itchy commented. ‘Good timing for you guys, huh?’

Crowbar looked at Die and Itchy.

He loved Die. For all the ridiculous things he’s said or done, and all the ridiculous things he’s going to say or do, he probably always will.

And it went without saying that he couldn’t stand Itchy, but the fear of their journey home offered a much welcomed break from the questions running rampant in his head.

However, he had words, some select words, some severe words.

And now he had them for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Surprise" SSDD


End file.
